


Glam_100 drabbles - 2014

by Leela



Series: glam_100_drabbles [7]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: BDSM, Community: glam_100, Drabble Collection, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a different drabble written in 2013 for the prompts in the <a href="http://glam-100.livejournal.com/">Glam 100 community on Livejournal</a>. See the series for drabbles written for earlier prompts.</p><p>Tags and pairings apply to different drabbles/drabble-sets in the series. All titles on chapters list the pairing in that drabble/drabble-set.</p><p>CURRENT DRABBLE:<br/>Prompt #116: Smoke - <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1176367/chapters/3323150">Where There's Smoke</a><br/><b>Pairing:</b> Adam/Tommy<br/><b>Rating:</b> PG<br/><b>Content:</b> None<br/><b>Summary:</b> "Just don't fucking let me die," Tommy begs. Then, swallowing down something that's nasty and sour with terror, he crawls into the van.<br/>NOTE: See the chapter notes and titles for Content, Warnings, and Pairings on the previous weeks' drabble(s).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Shift (Adam/Tommy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is too far away, and traffic is shit, like it is every full moon. Adam uses every reflex he's got, but he's still almost twenty minutes late. His phone starts ringing as he pulls up to the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** PG-13
> 
>  **Content/Warning(s):** Werewolves
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for glam_100, prompt #37: Moonlight (during open week). Many thanks to @eeyore9990 for the preread. This is for @zoodlemouse13 because she needs a little pick-me-up.

The full moon follows Adam through the day, into the studio, twining bright with silver and dark as velvet black night into the music. He growls out the notes, snarls words into the mic, and they're changing everything as he sings, layering tracks as fast as they can.

Until the trill of his phone alarm cuts through the sound booth, and he calls an end to it. 

"We'll pick this up tomorrow," he says, glancing down at the time. 

"No problem." Bonnie smiles. "We've got the cut."

He grins back at her, feeling the sharpening points of his teeth. "Awesome."

.o0O0o.

Home is too far away, and traffic is shit, like it is every full moon. Adam uses every reflex he's got, but he's still almost twenty minutes late. His phone starts ringing as he pulls up to the gate.

"Daddy!" Marc's voice comes through the speakers. "You said you wouldn't be late! Not on my Shift Night." 

"I'm here," Adam says, tapping the code into his remote. 

"No, you're not."

"I'm driving up to the house right now." 

"Daddeeeeee!"

Adam winces at the high-pitched squeal. "Hanging up," he grits out as he stops in the turnaround by the front door.

.o0O0o.

He barely gets inside before he has to drop his bag and catch the small body hurtling through the air at him.

"You're home!" Marc bounces in his arms. "Can we go now? Can we, Daddy?"

With a laughed, "Not yet," Adam moves Marc over to his hip and kicks the door closed behind him. "Your daddy has to get changed first." 

"I've been ready forever." Marc huffs.

"He has, too." Tommy comes out of the living room and leans against the wall. "This is his third change of clothes. Sound familiar?"

"Nope," Adam says, but he can't stop smiling.

.o0O0o.

"No kissing." Marc tries to push his cold fingers between Adam and Tommy's mouths; his nails scratch over Adam's cheek. "We're busy tonight."

Adam snags Marc's hand as Tommy starts laughing.

"Why did we do this again?"

"Because you wanted a kid," Tommy says.

"Me?" 

Adam tries for offended but fails when Marc bounces again, claps a hand to his chest, and says, "No, me, daddy. I'm the kid."

"Yes, you are." Tommy reaches for Marc. "And, right now, your daddy's going to get ready, and you're going to come help me set up the backyard for Shift Night."

"YayayayayaYAY!"

.o0O0o.

The lights are off when Adam walks down the stairs and through the kitchen. The moon hangs low and full above the hill behind the house. Its light washes over the backyard. To Adam's half-shifted eyes, everything seems to be edged in silver.

Tommy's sitting on a thick blanket, legs crossed. Marc's turning around and around in a splash of moonlight. His head's tipped back, and he's giggling.

Adam steps out onto the terrace, and the wind brings their voices, their laughter, and their scent to him. He breathes in his family, his pack, before going down to join them.

.o0O0o.

"Daddy." Marc starts to run to him, but stops and blinks, looking confused before he wobbles, and Tommy has to catch him. Marc laughs. "Dizzy!"

"All that spinning around," Adam says, picking Marc up, whirling around. 

"You're silly."

"That's your Daddy." Tommy smiles up at them, and Adam's heart catches in his chest. 

_Mine_ , he can't help but think.

Adam wraps his arms around Marc and pulls him into a tight hug. He presses his nose into the skin behind Marc's ear. This close, he can feel the heat of Marc's body, how close he is to his first shift.

.o0O0o.

"He's almost there," Tommy says, sliding his arms around Adam's neck, catching Marc between them. "He just needs a little boost from his alpha."

"From his daddies," Adam corrects him with a smile. Then he turns his head and rubs his cheek over Tommy's arm. 

Marc twitches uncomfortably, and sharp points prick into Adam's shoulders. 

"We need to do it now," Adam murmurs. He shrugs, trying to dislodge Marc's tiny claws, only to have them dig in deeper. 

"Yeah. Definitely looks like it." Tommy reaches forward and moves Marc's hands. The small pains are accompanied by the scent of blood.

.o0O0o.

"Hurts," Marc whimpers. He hunches over and presses his forehead against Adam's chest. "Don't like this."

"You're almost there, baby."

When Marc's head whips up and he scowls, Adam says, "I know. You're going to be our big boy." 

Adam links one hand with one of Tommy's, interlacing their fingers, and cups Marc's jaw with his other hand. Tommy's palm overlays his, and Marc clutches at Adam's shoulder again. 

It's like a circuit is closed, buzzing through Adam's veins, electric with silvery moonlight.

Holding onto his own control, drawing on Tommy's calm, he looks into Marc's eyes, and growls, " _Shift_."

.o0O0o.

Marc's shift feels like liquid in Adam's hands. Skin becomes soft fur. Hands become paws. Nails turn into claws. Baby teeth become pinprick sharp fangs.

His change is accompanied by a high-pitched howl that sings through Adam, and he can't help but join in. His and Tommy's voices curl beneath Marc's. His family is there, twined together, vibrating inside him for one long, glorious moment.

Then the howls fall silent, and he and Tommy are holding a wriggling wolf cub. Adam grins at Tommy, pushes Marc into his arms, and his own shift is a ripple of muscle and fur.

.o0O0o.

They chase each other around the garden, running through the trees. When Marc slows down and starts to get tired, they return to the nest of blankets Tommy created.

Adam makes sure Tommy and Marc drink water, before taking his turn at the bowl. Then he curls around them. Marc is between him and Tommy, heavy and warm, asleep within seconds. 

Moving carefully so as not to wake Marc, Adam rests his muzzle next to Tommy's. He can feel the pulse beating in Tommy's throat as he sleeps, slow and heavy, trusting Adam to keep them safe all night long.


	2. Mutual Need (Derek Hale/Tommy Joe Ratliff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guy's all denim and leather, with just enough scruff to sensitize Tommy's skin. His violence is leashed to a quiet buzz under the surface, matching the one deep inside Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** R
> 
> **Content/Warning(s):** BDSM, Werewolves, Teen Wolf Xover
> 
> **Author's notes:** Written for glam_100, prompt #112: Leather. Many thanks to @aislinntlc for the preread.

Tommy returns the doorman's nod, slips through the open doors and into the club. He steps out of the way, pausing to let his eyes adjust, wanting to see more than dark outlines in the dim lighting. 

Music pulses a low, rhythmic beat. It's canned, delivered by a DJ in a booth off to the side. The stage where Tommy played last week has been taken over by a red-haired, human Domme in black silk and her werewolf sub.

He watches them for a few minutes, wincing sympathetically and aching with need at every mark created by the leather whip.

^~^

It's not quite what Tommy wants, but it's close enough to draw him inside. He makes his way past couples and groups, even the occasional single like himself, and over to the bar. No way he wants to get drunk tonight, but having a bottle of beer in his hand makes him feel less conspicuous.

A growl draws his attention back to the stage. Shifted into beta form, the sub's crouched at his Domme's feet. She's poised and dangerously still. He's baring his fangs.

Tommy's attention, though, is drawn to the older, dark-haired werewolf who's standing in front of them.

^~^

_Maybe_ , Tommy thinks, leaning back against a pillar, watching them face-off. He can tell there's history, and that the older werewolf isn't to be trusted, but that's about all.

He's not even sure if the guy is an alpha, which is a bit of a trip because Tommy can usually figure that shit out as easily as he can work his way through a new song. He takes a long, thoughtful drink of his beer. 

Just when he thinks they'll stand there forever, the sub snarls a warning that the not-quite-alpha ignores as he gives the Domme a mocking bow.

^~^

Tommy frowns because he's not sure what the fuck is going on between them and he depends on his ability to do that. It saved his life once upon a time, which he really doesn't like thinking about.

"You don't want to know," a deep voice announces from Tommy's left.

Turning, he glares at the guy who's come to stand next to him. "Like I give a fuck what you think."

"Derek Hale," the guy says as he takes Tommy's beer bottle away and puts it on the bar. 

Tommy considers walking away but then the guy looks at him.

^~^

He's so fucking perfect that Tommy almost drops to his knees right then and there. The guy's all denim and leather, with just enough scruff to sensitize Tommy's skin. His violence is leashed to a quiet buzz under the surface, matching the one deep inside Tommy.

His eyes flash beta blue, with almost purple shading that hints at alpha red.

Tommy glances over at the stage, but the threesome that's setting up there doesn't interest him. They're too pretty, almost too sweet, for his taste.

"I don't do public," Derek says.

"Me neither."

Derek nods and starts to walk away.

^~^

His heart tripping a beat, Tommy follows Derek to a private room. The door closes with a thunk, shutting out the noise from the club. They're alone, but close enough for the werewolves to hear if Tommy screams for help.

Derek stands with his feet slightly apart and his arms folded over his chest, and for a moment, all Tommy can think is, _Fuck, yes, please, Sir!_

Then Derek moves, faster than Tommy can blink. He curls a strong, sure hand around Tommy's neck, forcing Tommy to look up at him. 

"No claws, no teeth. Not for our first time."

^~^

Tommy's brain catches on _first time_ and the awesome way that implies many other times, because he wants this so fucking much. Derek doesn't feel like any other werewolf Tommy's been with. He's got the kind of control Tommy wants, but also a neediness that's so much like the one inside Tommy.

This guy might actually understand. 

"Yeah," Tommy says, "Okay. But if we decide to take this further?"

"Then we can talk about it later." Derek's thumb caresses the edge of Tommy's jaw. "After you've come back to yourself and had time to think about what it all means."

^~^

"And for today?" Tommy isn't even remotely embarrassed by the hope that bleeds into his voice.

"Give me your boundaries and your words," Derek says. "I want to see how well you submit."

So Tommy does, need turning into a jangle of broken notes. 

Derek grabs him by the neck, presses him against the wall, opens him up with mouth and hands. 

Sliding to his knees to the soundtrack of Derek's vibrating growl, Tommy kisses denim and leather, opens up for Derek, and is taken close enough to the brink of pain to smooth the jagged edges of his soul.

^~^

The next night, someone else is on the door. This guy is tall and dark-skinned, and he's got the door open and a wide, bright smile aimed right at Tommy.

Swallowing down the shiver of music that rises through him, Tommy does his best to grin back. 

Tommy doesn't hesitate; he walks directly to a group that's taken over a set of couches. 

Without saying a word, he kneels down on the cushion next to Derek's feet. And when Derek's hand settles, heavy and sure, at the nape of Tommy's neck, Tommy rests his head against Derek's knee and relaxes.


	3. Where There's Smoke (Adam/Tommy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just don't fucking let me die," Tommy begs. Then, swallowing down something that's nasty and sour with terror, he crawls into the van.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** PG
> 
>  **Content/Warning(s):** None
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for glam_100, prompt #116: Smoke. Many thanks to @eeyore9990 for the preread.

The only signs of life in the rubble of Tommy's apartment building are the wisps of smoke rising sluggishly. Somewhere, sounding faint, as if they were further away than they really are, people scream, sirens wail, and things fall, crash, and shatter.

His guitars were in there, his music, his life, everything he owns except the Jag he took with him to Isaac's and whatever's in his backpack. 

He should be totally freaked out, but he's alive and his family is safe, on vacation in Hawaii, far away from this fucking disaster. He doesn't let himself think about anyone else.

\o|o/

"My baby!" The woman's scream pierces the haze that surrounds Tommy, jolts him far enough out of shock that he turns to see what's going on.

The sinkhole in the road has widened, and a mini-van teeters on the edge. A child, silent but clearly alive, is strapped into her seat in the back. The mother, who Tommy vaguely recognizes as having lived in one of the older houses on the street, is cradling a broken arm and a toddler. 

Without a second thought, Tommy moves. "Watch over them," he says, putting his guitar and pack down next to her.

\o|o/

A few others join him, and they clamber over the rubble. They all pause to stare at the van. The back wheel that's right underneath the kid has a shredded tire and is hanging over thin air. Parts of the undercarriage are gone, and smoke is seeping from the engine.

Tommy hasn't a fucking clue how they're going to get the kid out of there without someone dying.

"One guy goes in," suggests a bald guy who once yelled at Mike and Tommy for leaning on his fence. "The rest of us keep it from falling into that damn hole."

\o|o/

"He's the skinniest," another guy says, gesturing at Tommy with a hand that's wrapped in a bloodstained rag.

"No, I'm..." Tommy trails off because he really fucking is. The one dude who's about the same size as him looks like he's in his 80s. 

There's another creak, and the first guy says, "It's now or never, folks. C'mon, let's save this kid."

Nodding in agreement, the others take up positions. The sliding door comes off in one guy's hands, so he tosses it away and gets a grip on the edge of the opening. Someone else takes the other side.

\o|o/

Far too soon, there's nothing left except for Tommy to get his ass in the van. He makes it to the opening and puts a hand on the roof to brace himself. His stomach flips and he hesitates. Maybe if he tells them he's scared of heights?

"Move it," the old man says. "We can't hold this thing forever."

A sideways glance shows Tommy whitened knuckles and tensed muscles. They'd do this for Bridget, he tells himself. 

"Just don't fucking let me die," he begs. Then, swallowing down something that's nasty and sour with terror, he crawls into the van.

\o|o/

It stinks of piss and blood. The kid stares at him, all wide blue eyes and fear. A cut is dripping red down the side of her face.

"No," she whispers and tries to squirm away from him. "I want my mommy."

As Tommy gets his hands on her seat, the same one Bridget has, he hears the sound of metal screeching against pavement and the van tips down at an even more precarious angle.

"Hold on," he yells, voice cracking down the middle.

"Then hurry the fuck up. Damn thing's heavy."

Tommy inches forward and fumbles with the buckles.

\o|o/

The kid claws at Tommy, kicks at him and screams, "No! No! Mommy!"

He fights with the seat, letting her hit him, trying not to hurt her. 

The van shifts again, and fear cramps Tommy's stomach. Music rattles through his mind, a rocking tune that's driven by a wailing guitar and a pounding beat. 

He finally gets the kid free, dropping back onto his ass with a thud, and her head bashes into his chin. The van shifts again, and he scrambles backward. 

"Hurry up," a guy yells, sounding desperate. 

Then the van's slipping, and someone's grabbing onto Tommy's shirt.

\o|o/

He flails in mid-air for a second then thumps down onto the hard cement. The kid's head slams into his face again, and she screams.

"Mommy!"

Heat rises from the sinkhole. Fire, Tommy realizes, and he tries to get to his feet. He almost falls down again, nearly drops the kid.

"We've got ya," someone says, and the kid is gone. Just like that. 

A guy on either side, holding him up, Tommy stumbles and trips his way to solid ground. He just manages to see the mom cradle her kid like she's something precious before the paramedics find them.

\o|o/

The hospital's crazy busy, and after blood tests and a CT scan, Tommy's left to sleep in an ER cubicle. When he wakes up, the world is still noisy as fuck, but it stinks of hospital instead of smoke. Tommy flexes his hands, testing his fingers, wrists, and arms again.

Relief crashes through him when everything works. He pushes himself up onto one elbow and opens his eyes.

Such a fucking mistake, he thinks, as his head starts to pound. 

"Don't do that." The familiar voice is accompanied by a hand on his arm. "They said you should lie still."

\o|o/

"Now you tell me," Tommy groans, squeezing his eyes shut against the spinning all around him. "How did you know?"

"Someone went through the contacts in your phone, and I was the first one who answered," Adam says. "I didn't ask how he cracked your password."

"Shit. I didn't think it was that easy," Tommy mumbles. "How's the kid?" 

"The guy who called said to tell you she's fine."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"Have I been here? An hour, maybe?" After a pause, Adam adds, "You scared the shit out of me."

"'M sorry?"

"No, you're not, but that's okay."

\o|o/

Adam's fingers are gentle on Tommy's cheek. "It's a mess out there. Last I heard, they're saying it was a gas leak."

"Fuck."

"I called your mom, told her you're okay. She said to tell you to come home with me and not to argue too much."

Tommy bites down on his standard, sarcastic response. "I heard music when the van started going, taking me with it. Stuff I want to write, to play, to hear someone sing."

"No white lights and angels," Adam jokes.

"Nope."

Adam's smile vanishes. "Don't leave me."

"Not happening," Tommy promises. "You're stuck with me."


End file.
